Carving Pumpkins In A World Full Of Ghosts
by RedValkyrie
Summary: Halloween brings old ghosts to life and new life to old ghosts...even those who aren't dead at all.
1. Chapter 1

**~Carving Pumpkins in A World Full of Ghosts~**

~An HG*SS story by RedValkyrie~

~ooOoo~

The air was more than chilled; it was bitter, already full of icy malice in the lateness of October. The crueler season of winter would bite with sharpest teeth this year. The sky overhead was a rough blanket of grey that offered no warmth, and the leafless trees stretched their gnarled, knotted branches skywards like the arthritic hands of the aged. The lake too had already begun to ice, and thin sheets of slush had gathered at the banks. It had yet to snow, but the lush green carpet of summer grass had given way to the dry-bone beige of autumn that crunched underfoot like brittle nettles. The austere nature of the season was settling in way. It didn't try the senses like the ragweed of spring or the oppressive heat of July, and without the blizzards of January, one could almost think it pleasant, but only almost.

The festivities of Halloween would bewitch the castle tonight, interrupting that only almost pleasant atmosphere that pervaded the grounds. The twittering of children bustling with the excitement of feasts and floating candles, balls and real life magic had already pricked the stillness of this quiet hour.

It was a resigned sigh that escaped his lips, stinging with the chap of windburn. He looked to the sky, watching that unbroken sheet of cloud as it slowly shifted, but never ceased. It was his favorite season, this time of the in between when the harshness of summer had passed and winter, while felt on the wind had not yet descended in earnest. He wished to stay for a few moments longer in this world that lacked the sound and fury of exploding cauldrons, addled children, and showy displays of baser magics, floating pumpkins and swirling colonies of bats, _indeed_.

He was thankful Hagrid had taken leave early in the day to procure some odd supply for his horde of creatures. Without the half-giant's blustering, there was a delightful solitude to be found in the patch of pumpkins behind his small hut. Even Fang didn't make himself a nuisance, curtailing his usual barking frenzy in favor of nap at the hearth of his master's fireplace.

Taking these last few stolen moments of freedom, Snape settled himself on one of the larger pumpkins, and watched the wind as it wove through the pines of the Forbidden Forest. That brushing rustle was like a balm to his soul. He loved the natural world and all its play of light and shadow, sound and silence. He closed his eyes and let the wind buffet against him, swirl his hair and cloak as he sat there. He ginned at the feeling, and almost allowed himself a chuckle to think of the confusion his students' faces would display to see their terrible professor sitting cross-legged on a pumpkin with his eyes shut and grinning like a fool. All too soon though, the pressing knowledge that time and duty show no favoritism towards personal pleasures weighed itself too heavily to let him continue his solitary revelry. Groaning as his slipped himself from off his perch, he stretched his back and turned back towards the great towers of stone so long called home. However, he paused, and taking his wand, summoned one of the smaller pumpkins from the patch. Shrinking it and dropping it into the pocket of his coat, he made his way from the quiet fields of Hagrid's domain to the well-worn flagstones of Hogwarts.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I will hopefully finish this by Halloween. Look for multiple installments on that day. I haven't been around much in the last few months. For all the wonderful reviews I've received on previous works, I'm deeply grateful, and sorry I haven't been one to respond. To the authors who have continued to write such wonderful stories, Hannah-1888, coffeeonthepatio, Cathedral Carver, and others whom I have failed to review, your work still inspires me and I read every chapter. There have been some big changes for me that have kept me away from FF, but more on that later… please enjoy and please review. Thank you!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

~Shadows of The Past~

His boot heels clacked against the ancient stones as he quickly took to the main hall, hoping to reach the staircase before a fellow teacher or wayward student accosted him. His head was already buzzing at the change made from the quiet, cold stillness of the outside to the raucous nature the castle and its hundreds of inhabitants offered. Students raced down the corridors, ghosts floated overhead in a silvery parade, bursts of magic popped and whizzed in the air, along with paper airplanes, owls, and small fireworks. He was also quite certain he detected a whiff of dissipating dungbomb. Total bedlam, as always.

The students made way for him, curtailing their trickery until he'd passed, not wanting to earn a detention on an evening such as this. Truth be told though, he wasn't nearly the tyrant he was before the end of the war, and while no student was foolish enough to provoke him, they no longer cowered in fear of his wrath. Truthfully though, he no more wished to dole out a punishment than they wished to receive one, not on this Hallowed Evening. As it was, he reached the stairs with little more than a ringing in his ears. The stairs themselves, thankfully, were in a benevolent mood and moved with haste in the direction he desired, towards the Ravenclaw tower.

He climbed as the stairs swept across the great expanse of the hall and latched onto the upper landing. Lost in thought, and watching the tumultuous procession below, he only now looked up. And when he did, his own screams of terror filled his ears. An immense silver snake, its fangs bared, its malicious eyes staring into his own, lunged for his throat, hissing as it came. He closed his eyes, fearing the sight, waiting for the fearsome bite, but it never came. The snake had melted to vapor at first contact. Snape stumbled backwards and caught himself by the handrail of the staircase, his mind reeling, tears streaming unbidden from his eyes, his heart pounding so hard he could hear nothing but its beating. But then, there it was, laughter. Peeves.

_Peeves. Damn him!_

"What's the matter Snapey Pie? Did the snakey make you cry? Hahaha!"

Peeves whirled and spun and laughed making faces and blowing raspberries at Snape. Snape's mouth twisted into a maw of humiliated rage. He withdrew his wand and pointed it at the poltergeist, casting a spell so fast that Peeves had no time to dodge. The silvery figure shrieked in outrage as the magic hit him. Suddenly, the little ghost's ears grew to three times their normal size, as did his nose. His mouth meanwhile shrank into nothingness, and an overly large pigs tail sprouted from his backside. His hands and feet too were now replaced with the large fur frilled hooves of draft horse. Snape gathered himself up, wiping the tear tracks from his face.

"Well, well Peeves, aren't you quite the sight. All ready for Halloween are we now?" he said with a malevolent smile.

Peeves flew at him, waving his hoof hands, his ears flapping, muffled obscenities caught in his lipless mouth. He passed through Snape, still unable to voice his rage as he slipped through the ceiling, off to hide his hideous change. Snape chuckled at the now powerless poltergeist, but he could still feel the lingering shakes of fear in his knees. The image of that ghostly serpent still danced in his eye's mind. With a deep breath, and an even deeper thankfulness that no students had borne witness to the incident, he made his way to down a little used corridor.

Whispering an incantation, a simple, wooden door appeared with a brass plaque inscribed "The Viewing Room" upon it. He turned the latch and entered. It was dark now and the lone window provided little light from the outside. However, an otherworldly glow caught his eye from the corner of the room. As he stepped inside, suddenly, there appeared a head, pale and waxen, seemingly lit from within. It was a face with red, vindictive eyes, a nose comprised of slits, and mouth of sharp teeth, behind which the very fires of Hell seemed to stir. A swirl of robes could be heard as the floating head came towards him. Snape's heart leapt to his throat as the long dead visage came at him. He backed up, slamming into the door, a cold sweat broke out on his brow and his tongue felt like wool in his mouth. He reached for his wand, but his fingers trembled, causing his grasp to slip again, and again, and again.

It was almost to him now, this terrible ghost that couldn't be, this horrible monster returned from the shadows of death. Finally, his hand fixed fast around his wand and he drew it up, pointing it at the glowing face of darkness itself.

"Reducto!" he screamed out with a tremulous voice, the only spell his terrified brain could muster.

As the jet of light issued from his wand, he gasped at what he saw as the luminous face of Voldemort, the Dark Lord exploded before him.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Well, I tried to have this uploaded on Halloween, but I have no computer at home, and the one I usually use to upload no longer allows me to do so. I hope you don't mind a Halloween story a little after the fact. Please R&amp;R.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

~Looking Past The Present~

"OW!" he heard as his face was splattered with slimy pieces of his former master.

Still aghast at what he had seen, he found himself unable to move.

_Was that…?_

A groan broke the quiet. "My arm, I've cut it, badly."

The familiar voice shook him from his stunned state.

"Hermione?" he asked, moving towards the groans. "Hermione, what in the Devil is going on here?"

"Severus, I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to frighten you. Oh Merlin, please help me."

Snape cast a floating Lumos, and seeing her prone figure, curled and clutching her arm, hurried to kneel beside her. Taking her arm in his hand, he saw the gash trailing from her wrist to her elbow, a red river of blood flowed from it, pooling on the stones beneath her.

"It's deep, Hermione. Stay still."

She clutched at his robe and shut her eyes against the pain. "Please hurry, Severus."

Withdrawing a small bag from the inside pocket of his cloak, he pulled out several small vials using their contents to clean the wound, which seemed to be filled with slimy, orange matter.

"Hermione, what was that?" he asked as he worked.

"What?"

"The face. The Dark Lord! Was it an apparition, a spell? What in Dante's nine Hells was it?"

She breathed sharply as he dabbed at the cut. "It was a Jack-O-Lantern, Severus. And obviously, a great folly on my part."

"A Jack-… Hermione?"

"Yes, I know. I know… please, it hurts!"

"Shh, yes. I know. Quiet now," he said as he placed his wand above the cut. He began to chant, a gentle, lilting incantation, Vulnera Sanetur, softly, almost like a song.

Her wound began to close and her face flooded with relief. Her eyes opened to see his staring back at her, his mouth still singing the haunting, unearthly chant. He finished the spell, and the quiet of the room, lit only by the fading lumos overtook them. Neither moved. His hand still clutched her arm, his fingers softly rubbing the spot where she had been so badly injured. Neither was able to break the gaze held between them.

"Thank you," she said, after a few moments had passed.

Rising, and offering her his hand, they both stood. Outside, the cloud cover had started to disperse, allowing a few cold rays of the brilliant moon to shine through the small window.

Her hand was still wrapped in his.

"Severus, forgive me, please. I wasn't expecting anyone. I didn't know anyone else even knew of this room. I never would have-"

"You're forgiven, Hermione," he said, making no effort to untangle his hand from hers.

"Oh," she said, a little startled at his interruption, "thank you."

"Why exactly were you carving… _him_?"

She sighed and turned away from him, walking to the window where a sliver of silver light lit her face, highlighting the softness of her features.

"You'll think me stupid."

"I've learned stupidity is not a characteristic to be associated with you."

She smiled, still gazing out the window.

"Foolish then. That, I know you've considered me from time to time."

"Perhaps. Regardless of your estimable mind and prowess in matters of logic, you are still a Gryffindor, Miss Granger. "

Again, he'd wrought a smile. "Oh, Severus, you do know how to flatter a girl."

He laughed softly. "So I've been told."

"I've been having dreams lately," she said, "nightmares really, constantly. I don't know what's brought them on, but it's him, his face, staring at me, full of hate and calling me a worthless Mudblood before he… I always wake up before the spell hits me, but just seeing the flash of green. It's enough to leave me in tears for hours. I thought if maybe I could make a joke of him, it might settle my subconscious mind, or whatever's causing these terrible dreams. I thought a Jack-O-Lantern would be harmless enough. Obviously, I was mistaken."

He walked to her and placed a hand on her back, turning her to face him.

"I see, taming the Boggart, in a sense. You should have told me. I could have given you something, a weeks worth of dreamless sleep would have done you no harm."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't have," she said softly. "Oh dear, you've still got a bit of pumpkin on your face." She reached up to brush it away, letting her hand trail slowly down his cheek, watching her fingers as they mapped the contours of his jaw, his neck, and his collarbone until it rested on his chest. "

"I'll brew you some," he said quietly, finding his own hand had moved to cover hers.

"That would be… very kind."

She laid her head upon his chest and his arms moved to hold her.

"Did I hit you with my spell? Is that what cut you?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I was still holding my knife when it happened. It could have been the spell; it could have been the blade. It doesn't matter."

"I suppose not, but I don't like the idea of hurting you."

"Well, if it was the spell, it was in exchange for a terrible fright. We'll have to call it square," she said as she snuggled into his chest.

"Hmm."

"Severus?" she said, her voice muffled by the soft fabric of his robes. "Why is this called 'The Viewing Room'?"

He pulled back and looked at her in surprise. "You mean you don't know?"

"No. I happened upon the place one day while walking about and reading. In a moment of extreme coincidence, the phrase I had uttered was apparently the key to the door. It appeared; I entered. I found nothing but a nice spot that offered a bit of solitude. I've researched it but found nothing, and as far as a view, well, the window's nice, but it doesn't seem in any way extraordinary."

"Hermione, I'm astounded! The window, yes, it looks nondescript, but it is anything but that. Come, look!"

They walked back to the window and saw nothing more than what one sees from any window of Hogwarts in Autumn, rolling hills, mist covered ground, a pallid, luminous moon.

"What would you like to see?" he asked.

"I… what do you mean?"

"I mean Hermione, that in this window, is all the history of Hogwarts."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm almost done writing and hope to have the finished story up tomorrow. As I said earlier, I've been away for a while so, I am curious... in general, has readership dropped on this particular ship or is this offering not of much interest? Thanks, please R&amp;R<em>


End file.
